


Looking to the Sky to Save Me

by katmarajade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Christmas, F/M, Flight Attendants, Germany, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Romance, Running Away, Scars, Slow Build, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: Of all the cafés in all the world, she walks into his. It turns out he's not the only one who's been running for all these years.





	Looking to the Sky to Save Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightfalltwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/gifts).



> Written for the incomparable Nightfalltwen for the 2016 round of Smutty Claus. (I'm a little behind in archiving this one!) ♥   
> Title and one line of dialogue inspired by _Learn To Fly_ by the Foo Fighters.

**DECEMBER**

A bet was a bet. While Zacharias agreed (grudgingly in this case), he still thought his sister-in-law was pure evil for suggesting such harsh punishment. He stood moodily at the counter of the small café that his brother and his wife Karin owned in Hamburg, Germany, irritably organising the sugar packets and wearing an utterly ridiculous elf costume.

"Well, _someone_ is certainly dripping with holiday cheer!" The woman's snarky tone and familiar accent caused him to look up sharply, which made the over-sized pom-pom of his elf hat to bang into his eye, which caused a litany of muffled cursing as he furiously rearranged the festive monstrosity, which resulted in a loud peal of laughter from the woman standing before him. Ho bloody ho ho ho … he thought bitterly, not even attempting one of the friendly smiles that Karin had been coaching him on. 

"Of all the gin joints … Zacharias Smith?" He actually looked at the woman for the first time and realised he _recognised_ that annoying voice. 

"Brown," he muttered, still fuming about the humiliating costume he was wearing and not entirely sure that he was up to facing yet another judgmental old schoolmate today of all days. 

"Most people call me Lavender," she said mildly. "So I take it it's safe to order a cup of tea here? You would not believe how few places outside of Britain can brew even a barely passable cuppa. Two sugars, no milk, that's a dear. Oooh, and one of those gorgeously fluffy pastries with the pink icing." 

Her beaming, expectant grin confused and disarmed him, and he found himself fixing a cup of English Breakfast by rote. He handed her the paper cup and was surprised at himself when he waved away her money. 

She shook her head in clear amusement, slipped the coins in the tip jar, and left with a jaunty wave. "Merry Christmas, Zacharias!" she called over her shoulder as the bells on the door jingled behind her. 

She was long gone before he managed to mutter, "Merry Christmas, Brown."

*** * ***

**APRIL**

"I was really hoping for some bunny ears and a fluffy little cottontail. I have to say, I'm disappointed, Zacharias."

His head smashed into the corner of the counter as he quickly stood up from behind it where he'd been restocking the madeleines. 

"Brown," he said, internally wincing at how incredibly unfriendly he sounded. There was no denying he was a professional grade grouch but even he should be able to muster up an ounce or two of civility for a familiar face. Especially one as pretty as Lavender Brown. 

He tried again. "Lavender." While he hadn't exactly managed a smile, he'd at least managed to untwist his mouth from its usual sneer. 

"There's the charming little curmudgeon I remember," she said with a laugh, not seeming remotely fazed by his lack of enthusiasm.

" _Little_ seems a stretch," he said drily. He watched her eyes scan up and down his long, lanky frame, noting perhaps for the first time that he had grown a few inches since leaving school and now stood nearly a head taller than her short, curvy frame. 

"Fair enough," she said appreciatively before giving him a saucy wink. " _Big_ curmudgeon it is. Could I please have a cup of tea?"

"No milk, double sugar," he muttered, the words flying out of his mouth before he could stop them. She gave him a curious look followed by a long, slow smile. 

"Exactly. And something sweet and delicious, too—whatever you recommend." 

He mutely brewed two cups of tea and carefully carried them over to the small table she'd occupied, pausing slightly before sitting down across from her. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked, pushing a small plate with two of the still warm madeleines toward her. 

"I'm here for work. I'm at the Intercontinental Hotel next door."

"Why on earth? There's nothing here."

"Well, that seems an awfully dismal view of things. Personally, I find Hamburg rather charming. I'm only here for a few more hours anyway. I fly back to London this afternoon."

"Fly? Like a Muggle? Why not simply use a Portkey?"

"Mostly because it's my job. I work as a flight attendant for a Muggle airline."

"Why?"

"Because I want to!" she snapped back. "Why the hell do you work in a café in Germany?"

"Because as a terrified teenager, I thought that going into battle against the most evil wizard on the planet and all his horrid minions was a spectacularly bad idea and quite likely to kill us all. So I ran. Like a pathetic little coward, so they love to tell me, and no one in Britain will ever, ever let me live it down. So I kept running anywhere I could go. Finally, my brother got married and opened this café with his new wife, and they asked me to stay and help. It might not be impressive or a dream job but it's all right here." He shrugged, not quite sure why he was telling her any of it. 

She sighed and spun her teacup slowly on its saucer. "Everyone has their regrettable moments. Yours was unfortunately a bit more public than most. I understand what it's like to have everyone talking about you behind your back though. You probably heard that I had a run-in with Fenrir Greyback. Lots of scarring—in every sense of the word. You wanted to know why I do what I do? Well, maybe I'm running too. I hate the pitying glances and the way conversations stop suddenly when I arrive. I'm sick of my mother who treats me like a small child and an invalid. And I'm tired of my best friend trying to fix me up with every single eligible bloke in London. So when I came across an opportunity to fly around the world and get the hell out of England for long stretches of time, well, it sounded too good to be true. Plus, the job actually requires me to wear a smartly tied cravat, which conveniently hides most of my scars. Why not, right?"

"To running," Zacharias said, lifting his cup. 

The cups clinked gently, and Lavender grinned. Confused and flustered, Zacharias finished his tea in silence and offered only a marginally polite grunt when Lavender left the shop ten minutes later. He barely knew this woman, and somehow she made him feel warm inside, safe, and, for the first time in memory, understood.

*** * ***

**AUGUST**

The owl showed up right as the café was closing. At first, Zacharias was annoyed about being bothered but when he opened the note to find Lavender's large, loopy scrawl telling him she'd be in town for twenty-six hours starting late tomorrow morning, the irritation shifted to confusion and something else that he wasn't quite sure about.

It took accepting two extra shifts, one night of babysitting his nephew, and a promise to attend a Sunday dinner (and maintain a nominally pleasant demeanour while doing so) for his sister-in-law to let him have the following day off. 

Slouching against a wall in the hotel lobby, he wondered whether he should have even bothered. But when she swept into the building, heels clicking, and spotted him, Lavender's face lit up in the brightest smile that had ever been aimed in his direction. Definitely worth it. 

There were two other flight attendants wearing matching uniforms with her, and they eyed him curiously with smirky little smiles on their faces. He scowled at them but gave Lavender a nod. She turned a slightly lower watt smile on the gentleman manning the front desk and filled out several forms before handing envelopes to her colleagues and waving them off towards the lifts. Then she began walking towards him. Her ample hips, wrapped snugly in her navy, woollen uniform skirt, swayed in a mesmerising rhythm and her heels tick-tocked across the tile floor. 

"Zacharias," she said, drawing his name out into four long, distinct syllables. 

"What?" he said testily. "You said to be here."

She raised one eyebrow in obvious amusement. "Actually, I simply told you that I'd be coming into town. I wasn't even sure if you'd got my message, though clearly that international owl service is worth every sickle of their steep rates."

The flush that was staining his cheeks was embarrassing, and Zacharias tried valiantly to think of something—anything!—else to stop it. But if Lavender noticed, she wisely didn't comment on it. "Let me go change and then maybe we can grab something to eat?" 

He nodded and watched as she spun around to walk purposefully over to the lifts, giving him a little wave as she stepped inside and the doors swished shut. 

 

They spent the afternoon walking along Hafenstraße, people watching by the harbour, and eating smoked mackerel sandwiches at Bruecke 10, which Zacharias swore had the best non-hoity-toity seafood in Hamburg.

They sat outside the harbour-side restaurant and watched tourists make total fools of themselves, and it was the most fun he could remember having in ages. Lavender's humour was sharp, biting, and sarcastic, and he found himself snorting in appreciation at some of her better barbs. When he laughed, the too-loud sound startled him, like he wasn't quite sure how it had happened. It was jarring and disconcerting, and he shoved his hands deeply into his pockets and looked anywhere but at Lavender, who simply smiled, not realising that he literally could not remember the last time he'd laughed out loud. 

When the sun blazed heavily in the sky and the heat of the afternoon began overpowering the cool breeze blowing off the water, Zacharias suggested going back for a cup of tea near her hotel. She immediately agreed and set off determinedly, looking back at him with exasperation when he didn't follow her. 

"Town is _that_ way, Brown." He gestured away the Elbe and delighted at her flushing cheeks and the way her hips swayed as she strode past him again. Like that had been her intention all along and he was only slowing her down. _Merlin, she was incredible._ Startled by that thought, he rubbed a hand across his stubbled jawline, hoping that the blush spreading across his pale cheeks would be attributed to the heat. Thankfully, Lavender was too busy sashaying away to notice anyway. 

As they strolled back towards her hotel and the café, the summer sun beat down oppressively. After several tentative glances towards him, which Zacharias politely pretended not to notice, Lavender sighed and pulled off the silk scarf that had been wrapped decoratively around her neck. His eyes widened appreciatively at the sudden expanse of pale neck and décolletage, and it took a moment before he understood why she'd set her jaw and lifted her chin defiantly, as if waiting for him to say something. 

He rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with you, Brown. We've all got scars from that bloody war. You hide yours with a scarf. I hide mine by being a grouchy arse and generally making everyone hate me." 

"Well, then you're really fucking up, Smith. Because I don't hate you at all."

"I take it back. There _is_ definitely something wrong with you."

"Oh, shut your face, Zacharias," she said without any heat. 

He grunted in response but muttered an apology moments later when she caught him ripping his eyes away from her chest yet again. To his surprise, she beamed at him, correctly ascertaining that his wandering gaze was due not to her scars but to her generous cleavage. 

The next time, he vowed, he would suggest something stronger than tea.

*******

**NOVEMBER**

Zacharias hadn't wanted to say anything when she owled him with the date of her next layover in Hamburg, but Karin foiled his plans of secrecy.

"Happy birthday, Zach! Have fun!" she called out loudly as he and Lavender were leaving the café. He groaned as Lavender's face lit up with surprised delight and shot his traitorous sister-in-law a withering glare, which annoyingly had zero impact on her smug, cheeky grin. 

"I can't believe it's your birthday!" Lavender enthused as they walked briskly along the pavement, their long strides naturally matching pace. It was nice not to have to slow one's pace constantly to keep up with a lollygagging companion, he thought. 

"Well, there are only 365 possible options. Anyway, I hardly think it signifies. Just another day," he grumbled.

"Hardly signifies? But it's the best day of the year! A celebration of Zacharias!" she cried out in a dramatic voice, causing passing locals to eye her warily. Zacharias nodded apologetically to a scandalised-looking tiny old woman carrying a woven basket as large as her torso packed full of fresh brötchen, what appeared to be half a wheel of gouda, and an obscenely large salami. 

"Yes, it's all very exciting," he said in his driest, most sarcastic voice. Lavender purposefully ignored the tone. 

"Exactly! And to think, I was planning a totally normal-day itinerary of eating street food, having a nice coffee, and maybe taking a bit of a ramble."

"We can still do…" Zacharias said, his voice trailing off at the horrified look she gave him.

"We absolutely _cannot_ do that. That is normal, everyday, boring stuff. It's not _birthday_ stuff!"

"What the hell is birthday stuff? Cake?"

"No, darling. _Champagne_! Now shift! We have to get back to my hotel so I can change. This outfit is definitely not proper birthday attire. If I'd only known ahead of time … no matter!" 

She dragged him back down the street and through the hotel lobby. Zacharias allowed himself to be physically pulled along, pausing only to glare at a smirking bellhop. 

Lavender led him up and off the lift and down the hall at a pace that, for anyone with shorter legs, could have qualified as a brisk jog. She expertly wielded the key card and the door swung open immediately. Zacharias couldn't help but be impressed, as he had had to use similar cards before and had always found them infuriatingly difficult. 

That feeling was cut quite short when a grey cardigan hit his feet followed by a pink blouse and a floral scarf that was approximately the size of his duvet. He tried to avert his eyes in a gentlemanly fashion but was immediately drawn back in as Lavender tumbled backwards onto the bed as she tried to wriggle out of her very snug jeans. Once she'd kicked them free, she popped right back up, seemingly oblivious to Zacharias's slack-jawed, ogle-eyed expression, and bent over her suitcase wearing naught but a matching set of dark purple knickers and bra and grey woollen knee socks with tiny pink hearts all over them. 

Lavender began grabbing outfits from her suitcase, which was obviously Charmed—there was no way she could have fit so much in there otherwise! The sight of all that smooth, creamy flesh teased him in a tantalizing game of peekaboo as she pulled various shirts, trousers, skirts, and dresses off and on at dizzying speeds. 

Finally she seemed to settle on a purple dress. She looked lovely, Zacharias thought briefly until her wand began bobbing and before his eyes the dress turned from violet to scarlet, the hemline rose about an inch, and her stockinged legs suddenly shimmered. 

Grabbing a sheer black scarf, she draped the material artfully around her neck and shoulders. Obscuring her scars, he realised. He wanted to say something nice, something beautiful and poetic, something that assured her that she was gorgeous in the deepest, most real sense, in a way that scars could neither improve upon nor diminish. 

But then Lavender gave him a confident grin, obviously pleased by the fierce blush staining his cheeks and the less than perfect composure, and his brain froze. 

"Is that what's considered proper birthday attire these days?" he finally managed, embarrassed when his voice cracked slightly.

"If you're lucky, someday I might let you see my _improper_ birthday attire," she said, sliding her wand into an invisible pocket, and for the first time in his entire life, Zacharias had not a single snarky comeback. 

 

Five hours, a four-course meal, three different types of dessert, two bottles of champagne, and an off-key rendition of the happy birthday song sung by a wait-staff choir, Zacharias was beginning to think that this might be the best birthday he had ever had. 

Then she kissed him. 

Being kissed by Lavender was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It wasn't sweet, bashful, or tentative like his teenage trysts. (As if Lavender could ever be described as any of those things!) It wasn't fast and urgent and down-to-business either. It was all fiery fun and playful passion. 

When she pulled away he could see the question on her face, the faint fear of rejection behind her bold confidence. That little sliver of doubt swimming in big, brandy-brown eyes broke him, and he found himself nodding and agreeing to anything, everything. Mere minutes later he was on his back on her hotel room bed, staring in slack-jawed wonder as the carefully chosen birthday outfit was slowly stripped away. 

Once again she stood before him in nothing but a dark purple bra and knickers, and this time every inch of soft, creamy skin was his to touch, to kiss, to worship. She grinned at him, her smile crinkling her nose, and he sat up just long enough to pull her on top of him, thrilling at the sound of her delighted laughter and the feel of warm, womanly skin pressed against his own. 

Burying his face in her breasts, he inhaled her dizzying scent, musky vanilla and a hint of English Breakfast. Slowly and purposefully he began his explorations, mapping her soft skin with open-mouthed kisses while his fingers traced lazy patterns across her back and shoulders, scratching across the lace of her bra before opening the clasp. The fabric fell away, allowing her breasts to spill heavily against his face. He groaned slightly at the sensation and turned his mouth to capture a rosy nipple. Several minutes of his teasing tongue had Lavender gasping and grinding against him. 

She wriggled against him and broke away, taking a long, deep breath before fixing him with the sexiest, most sensual, soulful bedroom eyes he'd ever seen. Then she crinkled her nose, giggled, and he was lost. 

She made short work of his belt, rising up off of him only to push his trousers and pants down and off of his legs. He managed to toe off only one of his socks but when she sank back down, lacy knickers scraping intimately against him, he no longer cared about trivial things like the single grey sock on his left foot. He kissed her deeply and massaged her wide hips with worshipful hands, relishing the softness of the curves and the secret valleys for several long minutes before gently pushing the purple lace down her long legs. With a laugh, she dramatically kicked them off and gave him a playful come hither look, to which Zacharias immediately replied, pulling her tightly against him. 

Lavender squirmed away only long enough to position herself on top of him and sank down, her brown eyes fluttering shut and her head falling back. He wasn't sure which was hotter, the sight of her obvious pleasure or the feeling of finally being fully inside her. And when she began moving against him, he stopped thinking entirely, blissfully losing himself with and within her. 

 

The next morning Zacharias woke to the sounds of someone cursing under her breath and the clink of a spoon against a ceramic hotel coffee cup. 

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Lavender said brightly. She winced as she took a sip of slightly too hot tea and set it down in obvious annoyance. He watched as she straightened her stockings before pulling on a knee-length navy skirt and slipping her feet into painful-looking high heels, all while trying to button up her blouse. "Running a bit behind," she said sheepishly. "I need to be downstairs in less than ten minutes." 

"You're leaving?" he said, rubbing his hand across his stubbled face and trying desperately to wake up enough to form cogent thoughts. 

"I have to," Lavender said, shooting him an odd look. "You know that. I need to work the flight back to London. But I'll be back soon. I have another layover here on Christmas Eve. Plus, people are always trying to get rid of shifts around the holidays so I'm sure I can find someone willing to trade me their Hamburg route before then." 

Of course she had to go. She was here on business. She had a job to do! But the only thing he could focus on was her rush to leave, to get away from him, and in typical Zacharias fashion, he lashed out. 

"Yeah, sure, maybe."

He was tired. He was severely un-caffeinated. 

"I mean, it's been fun but we don't need to make this anymore complicated than we already have."

He was a horrible morning person. Or maybe he was just a horrible _person_. But the words were spilling out, and he couldn't stop. 

Never had he seen Lavender look so shocked, but she pulled herself together almost immediately. "Right. I certainly wouldn't want to _complicate_ anything for you." 

Her words dripped with scorn, and Zacharias hated himself. What in Merlin's name was he _doing_? Sabotaging the only good thing in his life, clearly. 

Whether it was his pride or confusion or just a lack of courage, he said nothing. Lavender finished dressing at top speed, repacked her suitcase with a wave of her wand, grabbed her cup of tea, and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

*******

**DECEMBER**

Six weeks later, he sat in the lobby of Lavender's hotel, dressed in a freshly pressed shirt and a blue sweater that Lavender had once said brought out his eyes. He fidgeted and earned curious looks from the front desk staff.

Right on schedule, a group of flight attendants entered. One wore a red Santa hat, one had a sparkling string of fairy lights around her neck, and one was laughing merrily. None was Lavender Brown. His heart sank. 

He waited until they'd finished at the desk and were headed towards the lifts to approach. 

"Excuse me," he said, trying not to look like a miserable, grouchy, sullen git (and failing utterly, he expected.) "But do you know Lavender Brown? She said she'd be flying in today." 

One of the flight attendants narrowed her eyes at him and waved her colleagues off. "I remember you. Lavender was always trying to convince us to let her have our Hamburg flights so she could come see you. I was rather surprised when she begged me to take her precious route tonight, but I imagine that's your doing."

"Yes, well, I can be a bit of a jerk sometimes."

"Just a bit?" Her tone was deceptively mild, but her eyes burned into him. 

"Do you know where I can find her?" he asked desperately. "Please."

She let out an exasperated huff but seemed to consider him. 

"Please," he repeated more earnestly. Lavender's co-worker looked torn but slightly sympathetic so Zacharias played his final card. "Please, miss. It's Christmas. Please help me." 

"Oh, fine!" the woman said, looking like she might cry. "Because it's Christmas and this sounds gorgeously romantic and I really _like_ Lavender. But I will make your life miserable if you screw this up. I have no idea how, but don't doubt that I will!"

"Yes, ma'am," Zacharias said seriously and listened carefully as she gave him the flight information for the route she'd traded Lavender. 

"The flight should be arriving any minute though, so I really don't know how you can possibly catch her. There certainly aren't any flights to Nice tonight, especially out of Hamburg of all places, and there's no way a train will get you there in time. 

"I'll figure something out," Zacharias said vaguely. "Thank you for your help. I appreciate it." 

"I'll be checking in with Lavender to make sure you don't bollocks this up. Just so you know."

"Sounds fair," Zacharias agreed, offering a wry smile and a wave good bye. 

 

It took a dizzying string of Apparations to get him to France, but a glance at his watch showed that he'd managed to make it within minutes of Lavender's scheduled arrival time. He scanned the large arrivals screen at the Nice International Airport, searching for a flight just arriving from London. 

He'd just about given up when he heard a loud North London accent that stood out from the low roar of French. A flight crew of two pilots and three flight attendants was striding briskly through towards the doors. Zacharias's breath caught in his throat when he saw Lavender among them; she was more gorgeous than ever, if that was even possible. 

They were nearing the exit before he managed to move. Starting jerkily towards her, he croaked out, "Lavender! Lavender Brown!" and was relieved when he saw her still momentarily before slowly looking back. As he'd anticipated, she did not look overly thrilled to see him, but she'd stopped. He decided to take what he could get and hurried towards her. 

"What the hell are you doing here, Zacharias?" she asked. She didn't look nearly as fearsome as he'd expected; her usual fun and fiery persona was muted, and instead she just looked tired. It was strange and unnerving not to have her snapping back at him, and his heart ached thinking that he likely had a hand in her uncharacteristically quiet attitude. 

"I needed to talk to you," he started pathetically. 

"And you've done a bang up job of it. Are we done now?" Her tone was waspish, and Zacharias took heart at the sassy reply. This was the Lavender he knew. The one he'd fallen in love with. The rest of her flight crew had stopped with her and was watching curiously. One of the pilots made a move like he might intervene, but Lavender waved him back. Zacharias took a deep breath and tried to ignore his audience.

"I know that what I did was inexcusable, and you know that I will be the first to admit that I'm a rude, surly, emotionally stunted wanker and that my greatest life skill is making people hate me."

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Don't forget melodramatic."

"That too," he agreed. 

"Well, that bit's not _entirely_ your fault. I mean, you _are_ a Scorpio," Lavender allowed, letting out an exasperated huff and crossing her arms over her chest but clearly still listening. 

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, surprising both of them with the amount of emotion in his voice. 

"Good. You should be. Apology accepted. Now are you quite finished?"

Taking another fortifying breath, Zacharias pulled out his secret weapon. With a grimace, he plopped atop his head the ridiculous elf hat that he'd been wearing when they'd first met again last Christmas. Feeling his cheeks heat to match the red of his hat, he looked up, breath held anxiously in his chest and hope pounding in his heart. 

It was a long, slow, perfect smile, the kind that started as a twitch at the corner of her lips and languidly morphed into a smirk before stretching out into a brilliant grin. 

"Go on then," she said simply, and he rushed to comply. 

"Look, I know that I am a grouchy git and, well, I'm certainly not the easiest person to deal with, and I'm really bad at this sort of thing … but I'm a grouchy git in love, and I needed you to know that. Because it's just wrong that you've been out there in the world thinking that I don't care when that's not the case at all. " 

"I thought I was _complicating_ things," she said, voice tight and controlled but there was a glimmer in her eyes that made the tiny embers of hope in his chest flare. 

"Yeah, well, you make things complicated, sure, but you also make them a million times better. You make my life better. You make _me_ better. So maybe I'm looking for a complication." 

She gave him an assessing little half-smile, and he gave her his best lopsided grin in response. "I love you, Lavender. I'm completely arse over teakettle for every single complicated, beautiful, amazing, infuriating, ridiculous, and perfect bit of you. And I'm standing here, at Christmas, wearing a truly horrible hat, begging you to maybe, just maybe, give me a chance."

"Well, I suppose it _is_ Christmas." Then she grinned at him, really grinned, and he reached out to pull her towards him, both of them ignoring her black suitcase, which toppled over with a crash. 

When their lips met, Zacharias melted into her, thrilled at the feeling of having her back in his arms. At first he attributed the roar in his ears to his pounding heart and the spectacular kiss. It wasn't until she pulled away laughing that he realised that the pilots, the other flight attendants, and a random assortment of airport workers and passengers were applauding. 

Lavender gave a sassy little bow, and Zacharias settled for awkwardly blushing and scowling at his feet. She smiled at him and took his hand, and he thought that perhaps this was exactly the complication he'd always needed.


End file.
